Friday, May 18, 2012

Site Write Entry #8: Attraction

. . . . . It was, she believed, a bit like being caught in the orbit of a star. You went around and around and around, and all you got for it was much too hot on one side and freezing cold on the other.. . . . . She was supposed to be studying for her placement practicum so she would be accepted to Dalaran University and allowed to develop her talent for magery, but instead, she was sitting in the bay window of her temporary dorm, staring out at the grassy lawn where the unknowing object of her affections was playing some sort of game with a spinning disc with several of his friends. His coppery hair glinted with highlights of gold in the sun, and his smile was as perfect as if set by Titanic mandate. Every time he stretched up to catch the disc, she was rewarded with a delightful eyeful of his bared chest, slim and trim like the noble quel'dorei he was.. . . . . So instead of studying, Serathyn sat here in the window, daydreaming about the day he might turn around after catching one of those elegantly floating discs and turn that perfect smile on her. The side of her in the sun through the window glass got warmer and warmer, while the portion shadowed by the angle at which she sat slowly chilled, untended as her daydreaming was far too important.

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Dear Miss Dawnward,It is with regret that the Council of Archmages of Dalaran University must inform you that you do not hold the qualifications necessary to enroll in the University. We wish you the best of luck in your future endeavors.

. . . . . Serathyn Dawnward stared bleakly at the letter for another few moments before hissing and throwing the expensive parchment onto the flames in her temporary dorm's fireplace. "Not qualified, huh?" she snarled, "You just wait." Before her access to the University's library could be revoked, she sneaked into the stacks, using no magic as that would trip the alarms, and stole a book: Demons and You: The Dangers of the Twisting Nether. She'd just show those stuffed shirts what qualified looked like.

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. . . . . "Honestly, woman, it's like the concept of ice cubes is entirely beyond you. Why do I even bother letting you stay around?" . . . . . "Because," Serathyn shot an acid look at Tekraen with his perfect smile and coppery hair, "you owe me. And you aren't clever enough to shake me.". . . . . Tekraen Laurenhall groaned and simply turned his back, walking away from his ever-present traveling companion. One of these days, he was going to figure out just what it was he owed her, pay the debt off, and get rid of her.